Students and revolutionaries scurried about, clambering over the barricade and racing about. Vigor ran in their blood, causing them to yell and curse. Marius was more reserved in his excitement, recoiling when an enthused student bore down on him with talk of battle. His eyes caught another young boy trying to take cover from the storm of war talk. Ducking away from the action, Marius strode up beside the worried-looking boy.
"Hello there. I don't think I've seen you around before."
"Wouldn't think so. I'm new 'round 'ere."
Marius frowned; something was off about this student. In a single motion, he took the cap from the boy's head, and a tangled mane of dark hair cascaded down.
"Eponine. What are you doing here? Eponine, you're going to get hurt, go home." Marius could see the anguish in Eponine's sunken eyes. With a sigh, he spoke again, returning Eponine her cap. "If you want so desperately to stay around, you can help me. Here, take this letter to Cosette, and be careful; don't get yourself shot."
Handing Eponine the envelope, Marius made his way back into the crowd of revolutionaries. The girl turned the envelope over in her hands before tucking it away in a pocket. These borrowed clothes barely stayed on her bony frame, but they would have to do. She piled her hair onto of her head and carefully placed the cap back on. With the letter in tow, she set off towards the Rue Plumet with a horrible sinking feeling.
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The streets were flooded with students milling about, chattering about their eminent victory and so forth. Montparnasse couldn't care less. He elbowed his way through the crowd, driven by anger and frustration. Near the towering monster of wood and iron they called the barricade, the herd of people thinned out. The air was much clearer, and Montparnasse was relieved. As he walked, his mind raced, leaving him oblivious to the world until he collided with a student.
"Watch yourself, boy," he growled. Before the boy could divvy away, Montparnasse grabbed his shoulder. Once he saw who it was, he tightened his grip.
"You stole my clothes."
"Borrowed 'em," Eponine corrected, wriggling away and glaring.
"What are you doing here? You trying to get yourself killed, is that it?"
"Like you'd care atall." With that Eponine turned to leave, dashing off and leaving Montparnasse to be swallowed up in the crowd. Grumbling, the young man pushed away his thoughts and prepared for the night when blood would run through the streets, feeding the greedy dirt. When the shadows would consume everything, even the hopeful light of the stars. Nothing would escape.